


Who you really are.

by AndryAL



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21633184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndryAL/pseuds/AndryAL
Summary: Aziraphale signs up for volunteering in a hospital, once there, he finds out something unpleasant.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language so if you find any mistake, please tell me in the comments and I'll fix it ASAP.

That day in January the snow was falling in a way that it seemed to be furious. The cold was dreadful and Aziraphale had the sensation of noticing it even in its unmaterialized wings.

The angel advanced as fast as he could toward the door of the building, shrunken and with his scarf raised to cover his mouth. If it were a less crowded building, he could have just teleported in, but that was not the case. Finally, with great difficulty, he reached the door and raised his head towards the golden letters on the top of the façade "The Maudsley Hospital". The building was old and looked similar to how Aziraphale could recall it had back then, in 1915, when it was inaugurated, but the angel he had never been inside.

Although the cold was unbearable, the angel stopped before entering, the emotions emanating from it overwhelmed him: anxiety, sadness, fear, anger... It was too much, but he could not turn back. Aziraphale had signed up to be a volunteer for a few days, to talk to the patients in that psychiatric hospital (at least with those who were allowed to have visits).

The angel didn't had the strength to say no to that girl at the supermarket stand who offered it to her, with so much dedication and effort... He just couldn't say no... "I'm soft," thought Aziraphale, and he entered the building.

Inside, the wave of emotions turned into a tsunami, but he held on as best he could and approached the reception.

\- Eh, um, hello - he said, with a gentle smile, to the young man at the counter - I'm here for the volunteering.

The young man looked at him with the typical bored gaze of a receptionist.

\- Do you have the enrollment papers?- asked the young man with a monotonous voice.

\- Oh, yes, of course - replied the angel, a little nervous.

Aziraphale rummaged through one of his pockets and pulled out a carefully folded piece of paper from it, with this movement, the snow that had accumulated on his shoulders without him realizing it, fell to the ground.

\- Oh, I'm sorry - he said, handing over the paper.

The angel looked at the ground and saw that there was plenty of snow on his shoes as well.

\- Don't worry, - said the receptionist, unfolding the paper - with this blizzard, the whole entrance soaked - concluded, turning his attention to the paper to check it.

Aziraphale took a look at the whole floor of the entrance and saw that he was right, it was almost completely covered with puddles, but especially in the centre and at the feet of the counter. A cleaning man was scouring the puddles while grumbling something. "An effort as fruitful as that of Sisyphus," the angel thought, saddened. At that moment a woman entered, leaving puddles along with her steps, causing a slight increase in the volume of the cleaning man's grunts.

\- All is correct -said the receptionist.

Aziraphale turned.

\- Just wait one moment, I must call the volunteer in charge to receive you. If you like, you can wait there - informed the young man, pointing to a small waiting room on the right of the reception.

\- Yes, thank you.

The angel went to the waiting room as he observed, feeling a bit of guilt, how the cleaning man attached a sign with huge letters written with a marker in a way that you could almost hear shouting what they were saying "PLEASE USE THE DOORMAT, THANK YOU FOR YOUR COLLABORATION." The cleaning man conscientiously sticking the sign facing outward. Aziraphale turned his gaze forward, a little embarrassed, he had not even noticed the doormat when he entered (this had happened because of the distraction caused by the tsunami of emotions that had hit him, Aziraphale knew it, but he did not want to allow himself "excuses").

Aziraphale sat in one of the seats in the waiting room, his hands resting on his lap, looking at the framed paintings on the walls, all of idyllic landscapes. On one of the paintings, there was a cottage that immediately made him recall of the cottage in which he and Crowley now lived, the angel smiled. They had decided to move together shortly after they had left their respective sides. In March it would be the eighth year living together, for Aziraphale (and Crowley) the best ones they had ever lived.

Just the thought of that cottage brought him happiness. He wondered what Crowley was doing now, most probably taking a nap, due that the blizzard discarded going out into the garden to shout at the plants. In that thread of thought, the angel remembered how his demon had tried to dissuade him from volunteering, "I don't think it's a good idea, angel, I've a bad feeling about this..." he said and, after the angel explained that he had no choice because he had compromised, Crowley resorted to his tactic of bribing him with food "it's a shame, because I was going to make pear cake..." Aziraphale remembered how he hesitated for a moment (Crowley had learned bakery just to pamper his angel, all his desserts were exquisite, but pear cake was one of the best, it had a "heavenly" taste, as Aziraphale said the first time he tasted it) and then reacting with "No, Crowley, really, I have to go... Though... If there's pear cake when I come back... I wouldn't be upset" Crowley twisted his mouth and rolled his eyes in response "Go, go now, if you have to go, at least be punctual," he grunted.

\- Mr Fell?

That voice brought Aziraphale back to the present.

-Yes! yes, that's me. -He replied, nervously, rising from his seat in a hurry, hoping it was the first time that he had been called.

The woman who had called him gave him a reassuring smile.

-First of all, thank you so much for joining the volunteer program. If you would like to join me, I will explain what you need to know.

-Yes, of course, ma'am... -Said the angel, approaching the woman.

\- You can call me Karen, you don't need to be so formal, in the volunteer program we are all family - clarified Karen, with a smile.

\- That's great - said the angel, returning the smile - then, you can call me Aziraphale.

Karen raised her eyebrows.

\- Wow, this is the first time I've heard that name.

\- Yes, it's quite... Peculiar - admitted the angel.

Aziraphale followed Karen, up the stairs to the second floor and through several corridors flanked by doors, until they reached a wider space. On the left, there were several seats like the ones in the waiting room where the angel had been waiting earlier, on the other side of the seats, an entrance to another corridor. In front of the seats, there were doors with signs indicating the room they lead to. Karen and Aziraphale entered through the door whose sign read "volunteering".

Aziraphale followed Karen, up the stairs to the second floor and through several corridors flanked by doors, until they reached a larger space. As soon as they entered, on the left, there were several seats like those in the waiting room in which the angel had been before, on the other side of the seats, an entrance to another corridor. In front of the seats, there were several doors with signs indicating which room they faced. Karen and Aziraphale entered through the door whose sign read "volunteering.

In the room, several people were sitting around three of the four tables, drinking coffee and chatting. They were in a break. On the left side of the room was a countertop with a coffee machine and a tower of recyclable cups. To the right, there were two large windows through which, in days when weather was more pleasant, a large amount of light would have entered. At the bottom of the room, there was a screen for the projector hanging from the ceiling (which was unusable until thick navy blue curtains were installed on the sides of the windows).

That room was apparently for both meetings and breaks. All the volunteers were chatting in a friendly and distended way, Aziraphale did not pay much attention to what they were saying, as he followed Karen to the free table. The countless words spoken by different voices mingled in a general murmur, becoming indistinguishable from each other, but one of those words, a name, reached clearly to Aziraphale "Warlock". The angel was immediately alarmed, he needed his best effort not to turn to the person who had said that name. Aziraphale tried to reassure himself "it's not such a strange name," he said to himself "it must be another Warlock", but then he heard something else "The poor boy...is it true that his parents do not visit him?" asked a voice from a young woman "Yes... The bastard of his father says that it is for 'keeping good appearances', that an ambassador cannot allow his image to be stained by the fact of having his son in a psychiatric hospital" answered the voice of a young man. Aziraphale turned pale, feeling his head spinning.

\- Aziraphale? Are you okay?- Asked Karen, worried.

While he had been absent, both had already arrived at the table and Karen had sat down, but the angel was still standing. Aziraphale took a while to react.

\- Eeeh, yes, yes, I'm fine, thank you. - He said, sitting down.

\- Are you sure?- Karen insisted.

\- Well, actually...

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment.

\- Is Warlock Dowling hospitalized here?

\- Warlock Dowling? Yes, why do you ask? - She asked. - Aren't you a journalist? Are you? - she grunted.

-No! I'm not, it's just that...

Aziraphale stopped, hesitating again. As Karen looked at the angel's worried face and how he was nervously rubbing his hands, she understood.

\- You know him. - She said.

And it wasn't a question, it was a statement that she was sure of.

\- Yes-Aziraphale admitted - and well, I don't know if the rules allow it but... Could I do the volunteering talking to him?

Karen smiled.

\- Of course, - she said enthusiastically - precisely, in cases like Warlock's, it is highly recommended, not to say necessary, to talk to someone he knows.

\- Really? - asked Aziraphale, enthusiastic.

\- Yes, yes, of course, - said, Karen - This is perfect! It's as if God himself had brought you here.

"Maybe She did," Aziraphale thought.

\- Warlock will be very happy, but...

Karen looked for a moment at the wall clock over the coffee machine.

\- I'm afraid we won't have time for you to see him today. - She continued, grieving.

\- What? - Aziraphale blurted out - Why not? - he asked, disgusted.

\- I'm sorry, - said Karen, looking away.

By the expression on Karen's face, Aziraphale knew she was being sincere.

\- I know you really want to see him, - she continued - but, according to the hospital's rules, first I have to explain to you how volunteering works, the general rules to follow with patients and, in some cases, such as Warlock's, there are individual rules that are added to the general ones, which I also have to explain to you. By the time we are finished, the visiting hours will have passed.

Karen paused for a moment, looking at Aziraphale, inviting him to say something, but the angel didn't say a word, so Karen, feeling uncomfortable, continued speaking.

\- If it was up to me, - she said, shyly - you would talk to him right now, but it's not up to me, I'm sorry.

Aziraphale was a little discouraged, but he understood.

\- No, don't apologize, it's not your fault. - He said, making a reassuring gesture with his hands.

Aziraphale quieted for a moment.

\- Well, we better get started, or we will finish very late, - said Karen.

\- Yes, - Aziraphale affirmed, smiling - I' m all ears - he added, resting his hands clasped on his lap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to go back home, where an impatient demon waits...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is not my first language so if you find any mistake, please tell me in the comments and I'll fix it ASAP.

Crowley looked at his watch again, it was late, Aziraphale should have already returned.   
The demon was wandering nervously around the room, he was tempted to shout at the houseplant next to the sofa, but he had already done it three times and discarded the idea. Crowley looked at the window on the left side of the front door of the house, although the darkness didn't mean a problem for his eyesight, the heavy snow impeded him from seeing an inch beyond the glass. The demon knew Aziraphale couldn't do all the way back by teleporting, a hospital is too crowded.

“Damn it, angel,” Crowley grunted, taking off his sunglasses and leaving them on the windowsill.

He took his phone out of his pocket (Aziraphale didn't have one until a year ago when, tired of trying to convince him to buy it, the demon gifted one to him.) and, when his finger was on the call button, Aziraphale materialized in the middle of the room, his hair and coat covered in snow.

“ Angel!” Crowley jumped, quickly approaching Aziraphale “Aren't you a little late? How was it?” he asked.

Crowley used that typical tone of his with which he pretends he wasn't on the verge of a break down a few moments ago. Aziraphale said nothing, he seemed like he had not heard Crowley. The angel was staring at the bookshelf behind the demon. He bit his lip slightly and, snapping his fingers, he changed into his pyjamas and dried his hair. Crowley frowned.

“It was nice, my dear,” he said at last “the people of the volunteering is pretty kind, as expected,” added, with a slight smile “ the coordina-”

“ Cut it, angel,” Crowley protested, frowning even more, “what happened?”

“Nothing, I'm just tired, that's all, it's been a busy day...”

“Angel,” said Crowley in gentler tone, holding his hand “tell me the truth, please.”

  
Aziraphale was silent, then sighed.

"Can we have a drink while I tell you?"

Crowley smiled and kissed his hand tenderly.

"Of course," he said.

They both headed for the kitchen, but Crowley stopped Aziraphale with a gentle hand in his shoulder.

" No," said Crowley, " just stay there and sit comfortably, you're exhausted, I'll take care of it."

Aziraphale gratefully accepted and sat down on the sofa but, as soon as Crowley left the living room, he got up and approached the bookshelf, checking again what he had already checked when he arrived. He didn't have any psychology books there, maybe in the bookstore... No, they weren't the kind of books he collected... Aziraphale returned to the sofa and sat down just before Crowley came back with a tray and put on the coffee table a cup of cocoa and (to the great pleasure of the angel) a portion of pear tart; the demon brought for himself a glass of red wine. Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale, who had already taken a sip his cocoa and was holding the cup with both hands resting on his lap. Seeing that his angel kept his gaze on his cup and hesitated to speak, Crowley stroked his hair.

"Take your time, angel, there's no hurry," he said.

Crowley took his hand away from Aziraphale's white curls to take his glass and take a sip.  
The caress and fond voice of his demon gave Aziraphale the strength he needed.

"Before anything else," he said, raising his eyes and looking directly in Crowley's eyes, "I want you to know that I have already checked with my own eyes, and what I am about to tell you is true." 

Crowley scowled slightly, and his face showed a mixture of confusion and concern. But he just nodded.

"It's Warlock," said Aziraphale, with an awful sadness in his voice.

Crowley startled, his eyes were wide open, and he began to pale.

"What..."

Crowley swallowed, trying to ease the lump in his throat.

"What happened to Warlock?" he asked, with the tone of voice of someone who has no choice but to ask a question of which he does not know if he wants to know the answer.

"He's in there, Crowley," replied Aziraphale.

Crowley noticed a strong pressure on his chest and his throat tensed like the strings of a piano, barely letting him say a word, he left the glass on the table.

"It can't be... You must have been confused, angel..." he muffled.

The devil's skin was nearly as white as the snow on the outside.

"No..." Aziraphale lamented, lowering his head and closing his eyes. "I-"

The angel tried to continue, but his voice drowned. Aziraphale left the cup on the table, and clasped his hands to his face, shrinking in his seat.

"Oh, Crowley," he sobbed, "I... I saw him, he was there.”

Crowley hugged the angel tightly.

"Shh," he said, giving him reassuring caresses in the hair "it's okay, angel, I believe you, I'm sorry, it's just...

The demon gently lifted Aziraphale's head to look into his teary eyes.

"I just didn't want to believe it," he continued.

Aziraphale let out another sob and threw himself at the demon, hugging him, looking for comfort in someone who was also devastated.

"It's all right, angel" Crowley said in a broken voice." Now that we are aware of it, we can help him."

Crowley barely contained the tears, but he wanted to stay strong for his angel, and so he did.  
They both stayed in each other's arms for a long time.  
When they were both calmer, they broke the hug. Crowley took his glass of wine and drank a large swallow.

" Maybe I should sign up for volunteering too, I don't think Warlock's parents would be keen to have a stranger visit him."

Aziraphale shook his head.

"I don't think his parents care anything about him anymore."

Crowley looked at Aziraphale puzzled.

"What you mean?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale sighed.

"They don't visit him," he said, with contained anger, "I heard from one of the volunteers that it was because they wanted to 'keep a good image.'"

Crowley rose abruptly, throwing furiously the (almost empty) glass of wine at the ground, making Aziraphale flinch on his seat.

"How dare they!?" shouted the demon, with a hissing voice that showed part of his snake nature.

"Law doesn't oblige them to take care of Warlock anymore," complained Aziraphale, clenching his hands in fists, "but...Maybe it's better like this," he said, in a second thought, "They would be only 'obligatory visits', Warlock deserves something much better than that...”

Aziraphale bit his lip.

"I couldn't get too close to the window, it's a second floor and I had to use my wings, but I saw that he was... relaxed."

Aziraphale had switched from fists to rubbing his hands nervously. Crowley looked at him, raising his eyebrows.

"The window?"

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley, not quite sure if he wanted to tell that part of the story. The angel sighed.

"According to hospital rules, volunteers must first know all the rules and how the volunteer system works before the first visit, Karen tried to explain it to me as quickly as she could but, even so, by the time we finished visiting time had passed." He explained.

"Karen?" Crowley asked.

"She's the coordinator. She's a pretty sweet woman, she's not to blame.

"So what," Crowley grunted, "You flew up, with this blizzard," he added, pointing to the window, "Looking for Warlock, from window to window?"

"Eh...Yes...Yes, that's exactly what I did..." said Aziraphale in an almost inaudible voice and looked down again.

Suddenly Crowley sat down next to him again, lifted the angel's head with one hand on his chin and kissed him gracefully.

"You're an idiot," said Crowley, finishing the kiss, "and I'm so proud of you." He smiled.

Aziraphale's answer was to catch Crowley with one hand around his waist and another in the copper hair and return the kiss. Crowley immediately surrounded his angel with his arms, gently sliding one of his hands from the middle of his back up his neck to the white curls. They stayed like that, melted with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please, don't forget to leave a kudos :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is not my first language so if you find any mistake, please tell me in the comments and I'll fix it ASAP.

After a lot of insistence, Crowley managed to get Aziraphale to agree to lie down on the bed for a little rest. They were lying in front of each other, gazing tenderly to each other.

\- I've been thinking about it,- said Aziraphale, breaking the silence, -and I think that, although his parents won't be a problem, it would be easier for you to visit Warlock if you signed up for volunteering too...Unless...

Aziraphale paused, raising an eyebrow and smirking, looking at his demon.

\- Unless you want to dress up as Nanny Astoreth again.

\- Hum...- said Crowley, rubbing his chin with one hand and making a thoughtful gesture.- tempting...but, nah, I pass, those heels end up killing you at the end of the day.

Aziraphale laughed, a laugh that was easily defeated by the sorrow he was feeling. The angel sighed and was crestfallen. Immediately, Crowley took his hands.

\- Things are going to be better for him from now on, angel, - he said, with a hopeful voice, but inevitably stained by sadness, - because he has us.

Aziraphale looked Crowley in the eye and did his best to draw a weak smile.

\- Yes, - said the angel, lovingly rubbing the devil's hands, - but, Crowley... I told Karen that I knew Warlock even though he doesn't...

\- I know, angel, he doesn't actually know either of us, only a gardener and a nanny... - Interrupted, Crowley.

The demon explored Aziraphale's face with his eyes, he had dark circles under his eyes and dried remains of tears. Crowley lifted the angel's face, caressing his cheek.

\- But we can think of something tomorrow, now I think it wouldn't harm you to get some sleep.

Aziraphale nodded, surprising himself with the fact that he wanted to sleep.

\- Temptation accomplished.- He smiled.

**** 

The sound of kitchen utensils and the smell of crêpes woke Aziraphale. The angel stretched out and got up out of bed without a trace of the laziness he would usually have had from leaving the heat of the blankets but, with the crêpes as motivation, there was nothing left of it at all.

He reached the kitchen and leaned against the door frame, watching Crowley wearing his favourite black pyjamas, platting the last crêpe.

\- Good morning, angel, - he said, smiling. - How was your sleep?

Aziraphale yawned.

\- It was nice,- he replied in a drowsy voice.

Crowley's smile widened.

\- told you,- he said, satisfied.

Crowley put the dish of crêpes on a tray which already had a teapot and two cups, and went to the door to carry them to the living room table. When the demon walked by him, Aziraphale took the opportunity, for Crowley's pleasure, and kissed him in the cheek, a good morning kiss before letting him pass.  
Once in the living room and all served, Crowley limited himself, as usual, to delight himself in the sight of his angel eating, barely drinking from his cup of tea.

\- I warn you, my dear,- said, the angel- if you keep improving your crêpes, I will end up being discorporated because of their deliciousness. 

Crowley laughed.

\- Then should I stop making them? - he asked, in a mischievous voice.

Aziraphale gasped, disgusted.

\- No! - He exclaimed.

Crowley laughed out loud with the expression on Aziraphale's face.

\- I was kidding, angel, - he said - I would never leave you without crêpes.

Aziraphale smiled pleased, ate the last piece of crêpe, took a sip of tea and wiped his mouth with the napkin. 

\- I had been thinking about the problem with the visits to Warlock, - said the angel, in a calm voice - and I think that with a couple of miracles it could be fixed...

Crowley, raised his eyebrows, interested.

\- And those would be?

\- Well, first of all, I'd have to make Karen forget that I know Warlock and then, let's say, " arrange" the paperwork for us to be assigned his visits.

\- Hum... Yes, I think that would work.

\- Well, - said the angel, with a slight smile - then, I think we could go and sign you up now and-

\- Angel, before that, there's something I want to ask you.

Aziraphale's expression changed completely, a fear and nervousness that, without success, he tried to hide.

\- When this Karen explained to you the "rules" to follow when visiting Warlock...

Aziraphale's face showed more and more what he was feeling at that moment.

\- She must have explained his case to you, why he's there, didn't she?- he asked, serious.

\- Eh, I, well, ye-yes - Aziraphale stuttered, agitated, frantically rubbing his hands.

Crowley found in the angel's agitation the answer he was looking for, the demon sighed.

\- I'm not angry with you because you didn't tell me, angel.

Aziraphale, still in doubt, looked his demon in the eye.

\- I know you didn't tell me at that moment...- he said- because it would have been too much... Because the fact that Warlock is in that hospital has something to do with us, doesn't it?

Aziraphale looked away and nodded, head down.

\- He - began to say the angel - he believes that he's the Antichrist - concluded, biting the lip and closing his eyes.

Crowley leaned his head on both hands, elbows resting on the table, "I knew it, I knew things were going too well..." he thought, noticed his gasping breath, "Breathing? But why, I don't need pretending to breathe at home, why can't I stop it?" the demon's mind was spinning. Aziraphale looked at him, alarmed. 

\- C-Crowley? - he asked, rising from the chair and approaching the demon.

Crowley was not there, a part of him, before Aziraphale told him, already suspected the reason of Warlock's present situation, but he had buried that suspicion in the depths of his being, unable to face it. The demon noticed the tears streaming from his eyes, tears he had been holding for a long time, several of them fell on the table and, involuntarily, a sob escaped from his mouth. An instant later, he noticed Aziraphale's hand pulling his shoulder, lifting him from the chair to wrap him in an embrace. Crowley showed no sign of resistance, hugging his angel tightly, resting his head on his shoulder, wetting the shirt of Aziraphale's pyjamas with his tears.

\- Shh, it's all right, - the angel cooed to him, with a slightly broken voice, - we' ll fix it, everything will be fine, - he said, caressing the demon's hair.

*******

Crowley and Aziraphale entered the hospital. The angel, already warned, was not so affected by the emotions that emerged from the place but, even so, it was still a very unpleasant sensation. Suddenly, he realized something and, scared, looked at Crowley. The demon had stopped for a moment, but he took up his step immediately, despite the discomfort he felt. Just like angels are more perceptive of positive emotions, demons are to the negative ones, which abounded in an overwhelming way there.

\- What the hell is going on in this place," he asked in a low voice as he walked on.

\- Sorry honey, I forgot to warn you.

As he guided him to the volunteer room, the angel glanced at his demon. Aziraphale knew him well enough to know that he was pretending to be all right, but he said nothing, knowing it was better to leave him that way. A drop of cold sweat fell down Crowley's temple, who was concentrating to isolate himself from that ocean of hate, fear, and sadness, although he didn't quite succeed, at least he could reduce it enough to focus his mind on other things.

\- Here we are, - announced, Aziraphale.

Crowley looked for a moment around the large room with its typical lounge seats and numerous doors.

\- Um, I think I should enter first just to tell Karen you want to sign up, - added the angel.

\- Yeah, good idea, - said Crowley, turning his eyes to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale nodded and headed to the volunteer room.

\- Wait, angel,- said Crowley, catching Aziraphale's shoulder. - I hadn't thought about it until now but, they' re not going to let me into the room with my shades, are they? It's a psychiatric hospital, after all.

Aziraphale reacted in such a way that it became very clear that he hadn't noticed that detail until now. Karen had already explained it to him, it was one of the rules, "you can't pass objects that are or can become sharp to the areas transited by patients". Aziraphale stopped that thought instantly, he didn't even want to imagine...

\- Yes, now that you say that, you're right, - said the angel, - But dear, although I love your eyes, they don't go unnoticed among humans. How-

\- Oh, come on, angel, - said Crowley, smiling and taking off his shades (for Aziraphale's delight) - we are in the 21st century.

Crowley snapped his fingers and his yellow eyes were hidden behind green contact lenses with touches of grey, a normal colour among humans, but still gorgeous. Aziraphale shook his head back in surprise.

\- What are those things? - he asked, frowning.

Crowley sighed, of course that his angel didn't know what the hell those things were.

\- They're coloured contact lenses, angel, many humans wear them nowadays, - explained the demon, with the tone of voice of someone who explains something obvious.

\- Well, um, they look very good on you, - said Aziraphale in a not very convincing voice, watching Crowley's eyes closely.

Crowley frowned.

\- You don't like them?  
\- Huh? No! I mean, I like them, it' s just that you look a little...  
\- Weird?  
\- Yes, exactly.

Crowley laughed.

\- Well, that's normal, - said the demon, smiling - come on, angel, go and talk to Karen.

\- Um, yeah, sure, right away.

And, without any more delay, he went to the volunteer room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a Kudos if you like my work! Kudos are my fuel :P

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this chapter, please, don't forget to leave a kudos :)


End file.
